


The Angel's Curse

by agentexmachina



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Angel Bucky Barnes, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentexmachina/pseuds/agentexmachina
Summary: The first time Steve saw the angel, he was amazed. Stunned beyond belief. The angel was beautiful. Pitch black wings framed his hunched shoulders and his dark hair was flowing in the wind, as soft as a bird’s feathers, ruffled by a storm. His movements were effortlessly fluid, he almost looked like he was floating over the ground instead of treading lightly. Maybe he was. Steve, however, could not tell because his attention was captivated by the angel’s eyes, which could have been as blue as the sky on a sunny day but were entirely devoid of light. In them, Steve saw a deep lake after a long rain, when the clouds had yet to dissolve and their reflections made the water appear to be made of stained glass. The angel’s expression was grave and Steve wondered how a being so lovely and graceful could possibly look as sorrowful as the angel in front of him.This is the story of how Steve saw an angel and his life changed forever.





	The Angel's Curse

The first time Steve saw the angel, he was amazed. Stunned beyond belief. The angel was beautiful. Pitch black wings framed his hunched shoulders and his dark hair was flowing in the wind, as soft as a bird’s feathers, ruffled by a storm. His movements were effortlessly fluid, he almost looked like he was floating over the ground instead of treading lightly. Maybe he was. Steve, however, could not tell because his attention was captivated by the angel’s eyes, which could have been as blue as the sky on a sunny day but were entirely devoid of light. In them, Steve saw a deep lake after a long rain, when the clouds had yet to dissolve and their reflections made the water appear to be made of stained glass. The angel’s expression was grave and Steve wondered how a being so lovely and graceful could possibly look as sorrowful as the angel in front of him. Steve wanted to fall on his knees and beg the angel to smile, so desperately did he want to see the angels face adorned with a joyous expression. The angel’s eyes widened when they met Steve’s gaze and Steve felt like he saw something shatter behind them – it might have been a trick of light – before the angel averted his eyes and disappeared from Steve’s view. The man was left behind puzzled, asking himself whether the angel had been nothing but a piece of his imagination or a living, breathing, real creature. 

From this fateful day on, everything in Steve’s life seemed to have become just a shade brighter. He told himself that it was most certainly his imagination but he could not deny that not a single bad thing had happened to him since his mysterious encounter. At first, Steve enjoyed these changes in his perception and the way they changed his life, slowly transformed him from a perpetually ill child to a well-built muscular man and made every person he crossed paths with instantly adore him, but he soon became bitter and lonely. Steve was unable to comprehend why other people’s kindness and admiration would not touch his heart and why he always felt cold and indifferent towards the world, despite its beauty. He became a soldier, because that was what strong and able-bodied people did, and was soon given the title of a Captain because of his ability to lead people. Nevertheless, their trust and admiration could not fill the void in his chest. When he realized that honor and power were meaningless to him, he withdrew himself from society and moved into a small house in the outskirts of the city which he had once cherished. Day and night, Steve’s mind was consumed by questions that were bound to stay unanswered, but he could not help but wonder. What had he done to deserve a life so much easier than everybody else’s? Why was his world so beautiful, so colorful and warm and why did he never feel like anything he saw or experienced truly touched his heart? Why was he frowning and shivering when everybody else was laughing and relishing in the last rays of sunshine before autumn would come? And, most importantly, why did he feel like there was an empty hole in his aching chest? Driven by his need for answers, Steve buried himself in books, trying to find a person who felt, or rather did not feel, like him and who could explain the loneliness and the longing to him because Steve did not understand. He had been happy once, had felt complete without desiring to know every single piece of him that made him a functioning human being. He was not even sure he was human anymore. Instead, he felt like a riddle, the answer to which had been long forgotten. He felt like a jigsaw puzzle but one piece was missing. But not for a single moment did he feel content.

Steve spent many years reading and wondering and aching for something he could not quite identify. Over the years, even his most passionate admirers had forgotten about him and what remained was the twisted picture of a hero and a savior. 

Maybe this was for the best, Steve thought and made the decision to never return to a society that idolized him but was unable to see his pain and suffering. Seven long winters passed until Steve finally found the trace of a person who might understand. For the first time in many years, Steve felt something that resembled hope, yet the feeling was fleeting and left him as suddenly as it had appeared. Determined to find what he had lost, Steve packed his few belongings in a bag and travelled to the village, the author of the book, who Steve had been able to connect with, was assumed to live in. 

When Steve arrived in the village, however, the villagers told him that the author’s stay had only been temporary and they had already resumed their journey. Despite his frustration, Steve decided to accept their offer to stay for a few days and rest before continuing his search for answers as he did not have a place to call home anymore. The villagers ensured that Steve was given a room in the inn and enough food and drink but Steve thought himself to be undeserving of their hospitality. Had he not isolated himself from others because he could never genuinely feel for them what they felt for him? He only had the intention to stay one night, Steve thought, thereafter he would not burden them with his presence any longer. Impassively, he thanked the villagers and proceeded to the room they had kindly offered to him. The room was tidy and clean, with a nice view on the broad fields that shone green and yellow in the autumn sun. Yet, Steve could not feel grateful for any of the good things that happened to him. Like a heavy stone he reclined on the bed, which was neither too soft nor too hard, and watched the dust dance in the evening sun until he fell asleep.

The next morning, Steve woke up to find a young man standing in the doorframe of the room. The man quickly introduced himself, his name was August and he had been sent to bring Steve to the mountains, where Steve would find what he was looking for, and he led Steve outside. They walked in almost amicable silence and Steve chewed on the piece of bread and the apple August had given to him without tasting it. Resolutely, Steve banned the voices, which whispered to him that he did not deserve the villagers’ kindness and could never repay them, to the back of his mind, focusing on setting one foot in front of the other. 

Sharp rocks cut his feet and ankles open and thorns ripped his clothes. When he cast a look behind to see how far they had come already, he noticed that he was leaving a bloody trail on the ground. Yet August left behind no traces and he appeared to be unharmed by nature’s harsh grasp entirely. Steve acknowledged that icy tears were running down his face but he could not figure out the reason why he would cry so he chose to ignore his body’s illogical reactions. Only when his body began shaking so badly that he could not continue walking anymore did they take a short break for Steve to recover from the sudden sensation of freezing cold. As they resumed their walk, Steve became aware of the fact that the path they were taking was narrowing with every step they took and soon they were surrounded by high walls of stone and only a thin crack in the rocks above him cast some light on them. Steve wanted to ask August whether they were still walking in the right direction but seeing the confidence in August’s strides, he kept quiet. They walked around stalagmites in a dark cave, which was only illuminated by a ray of light that shone through a hole in the ceiling, like a single star guiding them on their way. When they exited the cave, Steve was blinded by the brightness of the sun and he felt dizzy because of the sudden change in temperature, but August urged him to keep walking. They had almost reached their destination, he said. Tiredly, Steve stumbled forward but he fell and he could not find the strength in him to lift his body up again. His consciousness slipped from his grasp and his body went limp. The world faded around him and was replaced by a gruesome scene. 

Steve stood in a corridor without any windows that could have indicated his whereabouts. Blinking, he looked around and without any warning horrific screams tore through the silence and shook Steve to the core of his very being. Everything he could sense was pain and fear and agony. On his knees, trying to use his hands to shield his ears from the piercing sound of a tortured man screaming for his life, Steve robbed towards the door the screams came from and pushed it open with his shoulder, an exhausted gasp leaving his mouth. For a moment, the creaking of the door and the screams united to a screeching, dissonant chorus and then there was silence. Heaving a labored breath, Steve raised his eyes from the green silicone floor to the chair to the man was strapped onto, still shaking from the electricity running through his body. And Steve gasped because he recognized the angel in the man’s features but the expression on his face was so tortured, so raw and vulnerable and so deeply human that Steve’s entire body ached at the memory of their first encounter. He felt hot anger rise up in his throat, directed towards the men standing around the broken angel and operating the apparatus, that caused the angel so much pain, and he hated them in a way he had never hated anyone before, for destroying the most beautiful being Steve had ever seen. Enraged, he roared like a wild animal and reached out for the man, the angel, the thought of wanting to free him dominating his mind. 

Steve regained consciousness abruptly and froze mid-movement. His eyes followed the direction his arm pointed at, travelling over his flexed muscle and his sleeve to his hand that was opened as if he had been trying to grasp something, but he could only see the wooden ceiling above him. The situation was unexpected because before Steve had collapsed, he had not seen any house even remotely close enough for August to have carried him inside. Although it was possible that Steve might have missed something, his body was too heavy for August to carry and even if the owner of the house had helped, it was highly improbable that they would have been strong enough to move him a distance this far. Carefully, Steve stretched his body and relaxed again. He did not appear to be injured but he felt unfamiliarly light. As if to physically test his hypothesis, Steve sat up and studied his legs, which were not covered in cuts and blood anymore, though his ripped and dirty trousers served as proof that he had indeed crossed dangerous terrain. 

The sound of a door opening startled Steve and his eyes immediately shot up, trying to find the source of the noise. A woman who looked about ten years older than Steve entered the room and he instantly recognized her because she wore the same emotionless expression he saw every morning when he looked in the mirror.

“It is you,” Steve whispered but his voice cracked and he had to cough several times before he could speak again. The woman waited in a way that most people would have described as patiently but Steve knew better. He knew that she believed every single breath she took to be a waste, as she could never feel like she deserved any time on this earth at all, just like him.

“Please,” he tried again, “tell me why I cannot feel happiness or joy, tell me what I am lacking.”

“Certainly,” she answered with a voice as hollow as his, “I know what you have experienced because the same thing happened to me, a long time ago.”

“How?” Steve asked, hoping she would understand. How did she know about him, how had she changed, how had she figured out her condition?

“I tested you. I sent a dead person’s lost soul that had been dismissed at the doors of heaven to you and you could see him. Like us, the lost souls wander on earth but they do not belong here. Yet, contrary to them, we still live in a physical body whose needs are so very different from the things our soul desires. Our bodies want to feel bound to the earth and connected to other human beings but our souls just want to be free.”

“Is this the reason why I felt so empty, although the world gave me everything I could have ever wanted? I saw- someone, once, and everything changed,” Steve muttered through cracked lips, tongue heavy and rough like sandpaper. 

“We share this burden with the lost souls. This is the angel’s curse. Those who have seen true, heavenly beauty can never appreciate earthly gifts again. The creatures of heaven know that the cursed ones are lonely and, to compensate for the cursed person’s loss, they offer to them everything a human being could desire: being powerful, loved and admired. But they do not understand, because angels do not feel. And I cannot blame them for their error, for believing that quantity will compensate for a lack of quality, because they never had anything to lose like humans do.” 

The woman regarded him with empty eyes and then she said, “I am merely a puppet in this play. I can tell you what you hoped to hear, I can give you explanations and I can rationalize what you could not comprehend emotionally. But I cannot help you through your process of grieving and healing. Therefore, I need you to see.”

And then there was nothing but dust and sand and Steve suffocated and died a second death. This was the end of Steve’s first life.

***  
Steve wakes up and he feels nothing but a sense of being. He has lost his body and his mind but a piece of him is still left, a tiny part of his soul that just wants to be. 

But he is not alone in the darkness, he is not alone in this zone between life and death, where the lost souls wander. A foreign presence approaches him and peculiarly, Steve feels scared. He can scarcely identify the feeling without a physical reaction, like his heartbeat speeding up, his hands becoming sweaty or feeling nauseous, but he is definitely experiencing an emotional response to the presence. Yet, as he recognizes the presence, the fear vanishes and is replaced by something Steve cannot understand.

A question fills Steve’s mind, which should be bizarre, but to Steve it is the most natural form of communicating. _Can I show you?_

Steve has no words and he is uncertain about how to speak without lips, teeth, a tongue and his vocal cords. So he simply sends his consent through the strong emotions he can suddenly feel and hopes that they will reach the other presence. 

Immediately, warmth embraces Steve and colors and images flood his vision. He attempts to filter the impressions but every single one appears to be part of a large picture, which Steve feels like he cannot miss an aspect of. Slowly, the image of an angel with one wing and blood on his hands, kneeing in front of Steve takes shape. 

“I have been lost,” the angel speaks, “but you have found me. Thus I want to offer to you my sincerest gratitude. Although I can never make up for the life you lost because of my interference with the human world, I can show you and maybe you will be able to heal.”

Gently, tenderly, the angel invades his mind and Steve realizes that this is and offer, a chance maybe, that he can refuse any time, but he decides to see.

In the memories that are not his own, he catches a glimpse of the boy that has once been him. Steve is watching through the eyes of an angel who is not an angel anymore, because the moment a frail, happy Steve disappeared from his sight, he lost something. He became human and gained what Steve had lost; the ability to feel and to love. The pain of losing a loved one resonates deeply within Steve, and while he watches the angel desperately search for him, so the angel could return what he had taken from him when they parted, he knows that he can forgive. Both of them suffered a major, life changing loss, both of them were caught somewhere in the middle between two worlds and both of them were cursed. But something is still missing, and Steve feels nothing but pain and grief when the memory he saw while he was unconscious in the mountains, returns to him, but for the angel’s sake as well as his own, he has to keep watching. He has to feel the angel’s pain for him, so both of them will be able to heal, so the balance between them will be restored. Therefore, Steve forces himself to direct his gaze at what happened to the angel because earth did not tolerate an intruder who disrupted the natural order. The angel was broken. He was made a weapon and used by humans, forced to do the opposite of what he had been created for. They tortured him and coerced him into killing other humans for them to gain power and he had to obey, because he was not an angel anymore, but he was still obliged by heaven’s laws to grant every human who saw him power. He killed without ever seeing the eyes of his victims. 

The angel’s words bring Steve back into the dark void, where he is only an amorphous being, and he feels cold as he is disconnected from the angel’s soul.

“I cannot express how grateful I am and how much I owe you, for watching the story of my life without prejudice,” the angel whispers. “When I saw you for the first time, you gave me a sense of direction and now I am begging you to, please, let me do the same for you.”

And just like that, Steve forgives. “You owe me nothing,” he chokes out through a sob and he can feel again, the feeling of being alive, despite everything, is too intense and he breaks down. Warm arms hold his body and something inside of him simply falls in the right place and there is no emptiness anymore.

The universe has given them another chance.

When Steve looks up in Bucky’s eyes, he sees a person who has lived a life of suffering but has still chosen to love. This moment lasts only for a second, before both of them forget the lives they have lived. 

***  
They meet for the first time, again, and they aren’t humans or angels now. They are just two people who have the chance to be whoever they want to be. 

_“My name is Bucky.”_


End file.
